The garden is at it again. All the plans of color arrangement, height placement, watering groupings - all out the window. We're at that point in the summer when the flowers just take over and do whatever ol' thing they want to do. Which is also the point in the summer when I as a gardener decides to let them. Let them be who they want to be.
Moss roses mound and cascade, completely swamping the geraniums. (Any guess which of those I actually paid for?) Zinnias come up right willy nilly - spouting off in shades like Starburst candies. It becomes a jungle out there and, well, I love it.
Love the randomness and crowdedness, profusion and confusion, the total lack of permission they asked to move about at will. To grow faster, taller, shorter, slower - whatever their little hearts desired.
So how does that fit into my life? This Monday? What can I take from the display of life in my backyard?
To go with the flow? That life will find a way? To not take my planning so seriously?
Honestly, I'm not sure. I just know the garden, the flowers, moved me this morning. Spoke to me. Maybe I'm not being quiet enough to hear what was being said? Maybe I try to find meaning when there is none?
Well, I'm just going to take it as a good sign that I have lots of questions.
Because, when I run out of questions - things get a little scary.